


Nerușinare

by Eshnoazot



Category: Young Dracula
Genre: Family Bonding, Multi, Multiculturalism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-08
Updated: 2013-10-23
Packaged: 2017-12-28 20:07:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/996035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eshnoazot/pseuds/Eshnoazot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He considers himself a child of multiple cultures.<br/>(or Five times people were surprised by Vlad's blended cultural life.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dragobete (Romanian)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations  
> Postelnic: Literally a Romanian title during the medieval age, who "tending to the sleeping quarters of monarchs" (as in a chamberlain)  
> Ispravnic: A Romanian titles relating to people who were in charge of law enforcement in a certain county, and who became local administrators and were charged with leadership of local law enforcement. (They also represented the voivode.)  
> Voivode: A governor of a province, a noble or local ruler, but also leader of local armies or militias.  
> Poftă bună: Pretty much "bon appetit!"  
> Domnitor: The official ruler/ Prince.

5\. Dragobete

Vlad fiddled with the cuffs of his shirt and smoothed out his hoodie with a hesitant expression. Not for the first time, he wished he could see his reflection, if only to check his hair; though Ingrid had sworn it was  _okay_  it was always difficult to remember if they still had a truce on at the moment or not. He raised his fist to knock on the door in front of him, but let out a sigh as his confidence left him once more. For the past few minutes he had been replaying the same scene over and over; nervously shifting from foot to foot while trying to muster up the courage to knock on Erin Noble's coffin room door. In his hands, he nervously gripped the handle of the basket and took in a deep breath as he raised a hand to knock on the door and knocked tentatively with an optimistic smile. 

The sound of footsteps from inside the room caught his breath in his throat, before Erin opened the door with a curious expression. Her hair was mussed, and she had obviously been getting ready for bed. Vlad frowned and wondered belatedly if he had interrupted her sleep.

"I was wondering if you were busy?" Vlad smiled hopefully at her, "There's this thing on tonight and I was wondering if you wanted to come along?"

"A  _thing_?" Erin frowned, "Vlad its  _9 o’clock._ "

Vlad paused, and then frowned, "Sorry, I keep forgetting that you're not on Vampire time yet. You don't  _have_  to come if you don't want to-"

"No, I just mean- Don't you have training with Bertrand?" Erin's tone made Vlad mentally note to speak to Bertrand, and see what the tutor had said to her about his training.

"It's basically a Vampire holiday; no one is working today." Vlad grinned brightly, "I think Bertrand is out celebrating with his friends anyway."

"I didn't know Vampires HAD holidays." Erin seemed surprised, but then frowned disapprovingly, "I suppose everyone is out biting breathers in celebration."

"Oh no," Vlad shook his head, with a grin "No one is drinking blood today, and there's no killing either. Today everyone is vegetarian."

The blonde let out a surprised laugh, staring incredulously she finally noticed the basket in his hands, “Vegetarian Vampires?”

"Dragobete is a really important date for Vampires," Vlad gripped the basket tightly, "We celebrate the renewal of nature, and love."

"Love?"

"Yeah," Vlad looked away from her face, "Vampire Tradition says that Vampires who do not celebrate Dragobete will be unloved during the upcoming year, but those who do celebrate will be in love each and every day of the current year. Would you like to come along and celebrate with me? It would also be good for you to learn a little more about Vampire culture, and _of course_ you can meet a few new people, and when you're a Half-Fang you really ought to know as many Vampires with clans as possible."

“Sure, I’ve got to see this!” Erin grinned, “Give me a few minutes to get dressed, okay?”

-

It took about half an hour until Vlad landed at the edge of a forest, with Erin by his side. The blonde frowned at the remoteness of their position, but relaxed as Vlad brightened and pulled her along by her hand, into the forest by an old winding dirt path. It didn’t take very long to follow the old path up the side of a hill, and note the thick smoke pillowing from the top. As soon as they reached the top, Erin and Vlad let identical grins take their place as they took in the celebrations already in swing.

A bonfire in the centre had several people dancing around it, while more people avoided them in order to talk with swooping hands. Chains of flowers and lights had been strung up around trees, and someone had taken the initiative to bring in two beaten up old sofas which had seen better days.

At their arrival, the crowd yelled out greetings and eyed Erin with curious expressions. A quick glance was enough to tell her that it wasn’t just Vampires who had ventured out to celebrate; a couple dancing by the fire appeared to be Zombies, going by their slightly decomposing appearance.

“Domnitor Vladimir Drăculeşti has arrived!” The cry sent a painfully tall and thin vampire towards them; donning them both in flower crowns made from the same flowers strung up between trees. “Did you bring the things?”

“Of course,” Vlad held out the basket with a grin, and watched as the man pulled off the cloth to reveal a selection of pastries inside, “Apple pie, gingerbread, AND sponge cake? You spoil us Dracula.”

The vampire glanced towards Erin thoughtfully, “ _Voivode_ Răzvan Dănești, may I ask who Vladimir’s escort is this fine night?”

“Erin Noble.”

 The Vampire eyed her, with sadistic curled lips, “ _Postelnic_ Erin Noble?”

“ _Ispravnic_ Erin Noble,” Vlad frowned at him, causing the man to recoil.

“No offence intended,” The man responded brightly, “Vladimir, it’s a party! We have soy blood, Vişinată and Țuică in the icebox and our table is set with food; help yourself!”

Vlad smiled pleasantly, and slowly pulled Erin away, who watched the exchange with confusion, but with enough of an understanding that the conversation didn’t go down too well.

“What was that about?” She asked, as he pulled her towards the table set with food, “Vlad?”

“We’re kind of related. We’re roughly from the same bloodline,” Vlad paused, “A while back our family got into an argument and split- which is why we have two different blood mirrors now. The Dănești and Drăculeşt have an old family feud. They’re not too happy that I’m going to be Grand High Vampire. He shouldn’t bother you again tonight.”

“What did he say?” Erin studied his face in confusion, as Vlad unpacked the deserts onto the table, “Vlad?”

“ _Not something very nice,”_ Vlad said, with a final note, “Would you like anything to eat?”

“I’m afraid I don’t recognise anything here,” Erin smiled mischievously, “Do Vampires not eat Nachos and Potato Chips?”

“You’ve seen Renfield’s cooking,” Vlad quipped, “Okay, I’ll be your guide of all things Vampire tonight, milady.”

“Okay then,” Erin’s grin widened, as she studied the table, “What’s that?”

“Pup cu branza. It’s a sort of cheese pie? It’s made from a cheese called Brânză de burduf- from sheep’s milk, and dill.” Vlad dutifully responded, before leaning in conspicuously, “Be careful, pup is also Romanian for ‘kiss’.”

Erin grinned and hid her face as she pointed out something else,

“Mămăligă” Vlad responded, “It tastes pretty good with cream and fermented cheese? And see that dish there? That’s Cocoloşi; it’s made with Mămăligă, inside of them is cheese filling.”

“Is that ravioli?” Erin interrupted, as she pointed to another dish.

“Nope, that’s Borș de burechiușe,” Vlad grinned, “I haven’t eaten that in years! It’s filled with filled with mushrooms, and then boiled in Ciorbă which is a traditional Romanian broth- that bowl there! Really, people _usually_ eat it around Christmas, but it’s pretty good...”

“You look so excited.” Erin grinned fondly at him, causing the vampire to cough and glance back at the table.

“I haven’t eaten any of this since I was 11,” Vlad shrugged, “It’s not like it’s easy to get Romanian food when we live, and it’s impossible to get Renfield to cook anything but boiled socks. “

“I think I understand,” Erin nodded, “What’s this?”

“As Bertrand says; the best way to learn is by trying,” Vlad laughed, “ _Poftă bună_!”

The game continued until everything on the table had been identified, and thoroughly sampled. Vlad was halfway through his second bottle of soy blood when he suddenly visibly brightened and turned to Erin with a child-like glee.

“Erin!” He whispered with wide eyes, and an even wider smile, “Look at the fire. They’re cooking _Kürtőskalács.”_

Erin followed his line of sight, and watched as the Vampires near the flames turned wooden spits with pastry wrapped around it.

“Want to go and make some?” Erin asked him with a smile. She didn’t get a chance to open her mouth again before Vlad pulled her along by her hand to the couches where Vampires were mixing ingredients together while laughing.  At their arrival, everyone glanced at them curiously yet shifted to give them room, and quickly passed introductions between them all before setting them both to work. There was no doubt that Vlad was familiar with more than a few, as he relaxed into conversation quickly, while he helped Erin to wind thin pastry ribbons around a wooden cylinder and sprinkle them with sugar and almonds.

A petite Vampire helped her to load the pastry onto the spit while Vlad went to collect more soy blood for the group.

“So, Erin Noble right? I’m _Dragomir Vîrnav_ ,” The petite man grinned at her as soon as Vlad was out of the way, “You and Vlad are close, hmm?”

The group snickered around her, and not for the first time, she felt as if she’d missed out on an integral part of the joke.

“I suppose.”

“I didn’t take Vlad for the type to make half-fangs though,” The man paused, “I must say, he’s as attached to you as you are to him.”

“Vlad didn’t bite me.”

The group stopped snickering.

“Then you’re not here out of loyalty?” The man questioned curiously. Erin paused as she noted that there was something behind his words that she wasn’t quite catching, and studied his face curiously.

“I’m here because Vlad asked me to come, and it sounded fun.”

The answer set out across the group like lightening, and faces visibly alighted with delight at her words. Suddenly she felt as if she had said the wrong thing, although she gave very little away to the group.

“Then you two must be close,” The man leant forward, “Unless he neglected to tell you that today is the equivalent of the Breather holiday- _Valentine’s Day_. Personally I find Valentine’s Day to be much too _tacky_ and shallow.”

Erin’s eyes widened, but she hid her surprise well, “Vlad told me all about Dragobete beforehand; are you unfamiliar with an emotion called _trust_?”

 “ _I have Vişinată and Țuică.”_ Vlad announced loudly, glancing between Erin and Dragomir. He settled next to Erin once more as hands took bottles away from his arms, and leant conspicuously towards her, “Would you like to try the homemade sour cherry liqueur or the probably less toxic plum brandy?”

The group quickly returning to their former conversation of lewd jokes in Romanian, but glanced between the two with ill-hidden smiles. It took hours before the soy blood, liqueur and the _Kürtőskalács_ were finished, and people were collecting their fallen capes and coats laughing before the sun came up once more.

“Ready to head home?” Vlad smiled at her, as he leaned against the couch, “I know I am; it’s midnight anyway, everyone’s leaving soon.”

“Why so early? I’d have thought the party would last until well into the morning,” Erin teased, “I’ve seen breather parties last longer.”

“It’s tradition,” Vlad looked away from her in embarrassment, “At midnight the vampiress’ returned home running or flying, followed by one boy who really liked her. If the boy was fast and the girl liked him, she’d kiss him.”

“I can’t fly,” Erin frowned, then gave a wicked smile, “But catch me if you can!”

Vlad looked up in surprise as Erin dashed back down the winding trail, giving her vital seconds to get some ground between them before he reacted and followed her. The crowd still lingering in the clearing gave hoots and wolf whistles at his dazed expression, urging him to chase after the sound of her laughter. She didn’t even make it halfway down the hill before he caught up to her and stepped in front of her path, shyly smiling at her with a distinctly lost expression.

Erin snorted and fell into laughter again, and she leant forward and kissed him quickly; watching as his expression grew more dazed and content.

“You _scampire_ ,” Erin teased, as she threaded her hands through his own, “C’mon, let’s head home- I didn’t bring a thick enough coat for this.”


	2. Calennig (Welsh)

4\. Calennig

"Hey Bertrand, do you have a minute?" Vlad peered into the training room where his tutor was rearranging his shelves; as soon as he caught sight of his tutor, he waved cheerily. " _Dydd calan yw hi heddiw, Rwy'n dyfod ar eich traws, I ofyn am y geiniog, Neu grwst, a bara a chaws. O dewch i'r drws yn siriol, Heb nesid dim o'ch gwedd; Cyn daw dydd calan eto Bydd llawer yn y bedd!"_

"Was that Welsh?" Bertrand looked up in surprise, "I wasn't aware you were versed in languages."

Vlad shrugged, pointing at his tutor with his skewed apple, "I may not be academic like you, but that doesn't mean I'm a complete idiot; and my best mate was welsh. Besides, when you meet Mrs Branagh, it's pretty much impossible not to pick up on the language. So?"

"I'm sorry, Welsh is one of the few languages I'm unfamiliar with," Bertrand admitted with a frown, "Could you translate for me?"

" _'Today is the start of the new year, and I have come to you to ask for [my} money, or bread, or pastry, and bread and cheese. O come to [your] door smiling without waking anyone up; Before the next arrival of the new year many will be dead'_ ," Vlad responded, "It's Calennig; it's traditional for children to go from house to house, bearing good wishes for the health and prosperity during the year to come. When they sung verses, they'd usually receive money or food for their effort. If you don't want to join in, just say  _Blwyddyn newydd ddrwg - a llond y tŷ o fwg_!"

"I'm not sure I could," Bertrand responded in amusement, "Is that why you have springs of evergreen in your hair?"

Vlad's eyes widened as he reached up and started pulling out the chunks with a frown, "Wolfie swore they were all on the  _apples_."

"I was about to sit down for Lunch," Bertrand offered, with an odd smile "Care to join me?"

Vlad grinned, and walked through the door with a skip in his step, following his tutor back to his desk. The table was already set out with a plate full of food that certainly didn't come from Renfield's kitchen; the ingredients scattered around proved that Bertrand had been cooking for himself, which made sense considering the nature of the suspicious vampire.

"I'm afraid it's nothing spectacular," The tutor looked uncomfortable, "If I'd known you were coming, I would have cooked something more impressive than croque-monsieurs."

"They're fine," Vlad assured, with a cheeky grin,  _"I _echyd da__!"

Bertrand let out a fond grin as the two started eating the sandwiches. Vlad absentmindedly picked springs of evergreen from his hair, and set down the three-pronged apple on the table.

"Where have you been the last few days?" Vlad asked curiously, "I mean, you're allowed to go where you want-"

"It's fine- I visited some acquaintances," Bertrand frowned, "There were a few books I needed access to at the Council Chambers, and these acquaintances owed me some favours. I can't imagine you missed your training sessions much."

"No, but I missed you," Vlad shrugged, missing the smile that covered Bertrand's face, "I hope you don't mind, but I came in here a few days ago to deliver your present; it's inside your coffin if you hadn't already found it."

Interest peaked; the Vampire stood and crossed the room; lifting up the coffin lid hesitantly, before pulling out the box wrapped in thick paper and tied with twine. The card attached simply had his name in Vlad's spiky scrawl. Bertrand walked the box back to the table, and set it down almost reverently.

"Open it!"

Nodding at the younger vampire, Bertrand carefully picked the sticky tape off, and untwined the package; careful not to rip the paper. Vlad by his side was fidgeting as Bertrand paused to fold the paper, and inspect the plain cardboard shoebox. Carefully he removed the lid, and blinked in curiosity at the leather inside and let his hand stroke the extensive leather. Carefully he pulled out them out of the box, and smiled as he realized that tall boots filled the box.

"Boots?"

"I couldn't figure out what to get you," Vlad confessed, "I mean, you're not big on material goods, and you have just about every book- don't deny it I've  _seen_  your ebook collection- so I figured something more practical was a safer option. I had them customized for you, from a Cordwainer suggested to me by a member of the council-"

"Vlad, they're wonderful." Bertrand assured, feeling the expensive leather with ill contained awe.

"Try them on?"

Bertrand looked scandalous at the idea, but didn't respond as he removed his shoes and pulled the boots onto his feet, although he looked uncomfortable at the sheer situation he was in. The boots were taller than he had expected, and as five minutes went by, the expression on his face revealed that he had already realized what a Sisyphean task it would be to lace them.

Vlad seemed to realize this at the same time, and reached down to help lace them with a grin _, “A oes arnoch chi angen help?”_

“I suppose you’re having fun at my lack of knowledge?” Bertrand mused curiously; there was something in his tone that made Vlad glance up sharply.

“I’ll stop,” Vlad suddenly announced, “I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable.”

“On the contrary Vlad,” Bertrand brightened, “It’s not every day that a teacher admits that his pupil is becoming impressive in his pursuits, or has outperformed his tutor. I’m proud of you.”

Vlad eyed him curiously and casually remarked “Then I suppose I’ll have to teach you.”

Bertrand looked at him in surprise.

“I don’t expect there’s many welsh vampires,” Vlad continued, as he laced up Bertrand’s boots, “So I suspect that it will be a handy language to know when we wish to talk without others being aware of what is being said.”

The careful phrasing gave Bertrand pause as he scrambled to figure out the intent Vlad was trying to convey. As if sensing his turmoil clouding his thoughts, the younger Vampire looked at him with a bland expression that didn’t convey the weight of his words.

“It’ll be especially useful when I claim you as my advisor, and archivist,” Vlad’s expression broke as he grinned widely, “ _Blwyddyn Newydd Dda,_ Bertrand. _Happy New Year_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Iechyd da: Welsh for 'cheers!'  
> A oes arnoch chi angen help?: Do you need help?  
> Blwyddyn newydd ddrwg - a llond y tŷ o fwg: Really hard to translate but roughly "New Year's Evil - Lots of smoke house"  
> croque-monsieurs: Pretty much the god of all cheese sandwiches.


	3. Saint Patrick's Day (Irish)

3\. Saint Patrick's Day

" _I utterly refuse!_ Vladimir, I _forbid_ you to go to such an abhorrent festival!" The Count huffed and paced a few steps before turning back towards his son with an expression of utter exasperation, "I cannot possibly understand _why_ you would do such a thing to your own _father_! And _take that ridiculous thing off your head_!"

Vlad protectively held onto his giant shamrock hat with a frown, "Dad- you know that Saint Patrick's Day isn't about mum and-"

" _Don't you dare say his name under this roof_!"

Wolfie by Vlad's side jumped back at the volume, and hid behind his brother's leg with wide eyes. The Count gave a startled look at the action, and let out a sigh that seemed to deflate half his grand presence.

"Dad," Vlad attempted again in a soothing voice, which was questionably affected by the noveltygreen sunglasses around his face, " _Trust me_ on this-"

"Vladimir, you're wearing a _'Kiss me, I'm Irish' shirt,'_ " The Count replied, in a sudden moment of lucidity, "That is blatant false advertisement, and it doesn't exactly inspire confidence in one's offspring and heir. Not to mention that you are a _Vampire_! Why you insist on celebrating with these Peasant Breathers I just _cannot understand_!"

"It's just a parade," Vlad responded, zipping up his green hoodie over his shirt with a frown, "I was just going to take Wolfie down to the arcade games; he's got a pretty good aim, maybe he'll win a few stuffed animals. Dad, _don't worry_ I just thought that Wolfie may appreciate it if we don't lock him away for his _entire childhood_."

" _Vlady_ -"

"And there will be fireworks and puppet shows," Vlad continued, "And acrobats and a Ferris wheel."

"But with  _breathers_!" The Count looked visibly distressed.

"Ingrid is coming as well," Vlad pointed out, "Between us, it's not likely that we're going to lose him."

"Ingrid," The tone grew sour again, "What exactly does this festival have that seems to have enthralled you so much? When you become Grand High Vampire, you can have _all the festivals and parades you ever desire_!"

Vlad hesitated.

"Vlad is clearly going down for the pub-crawl," Ingrid called from the doorway, "Else wise, why would he have specifically brought a fake ID."

" _Vladimir, is this true_?"

Vlad nodded glumly.

"Finally!" The Count's eye lit up in delight, "My son finally showing the tenacity and resourcefulness of a true Vampiric heir! Do you have enough money for this _'festival_ '? Ah! Here, take some more, nothing is too pricey for my son! I am so _proud_ of you Vlad!"

Vlad accepted the wad of notes with a smile, "Thanks dad."

Without his father noticing, he slipped the wad in half, pocketed his share and held the rest behind his back as Ingrid strode past and spluttered about blatant favouritism. The vague nod she sent his way was evidence enough that at least for day, there was a peace treaty in place.

"Besides," Ingrid shrugged, "Vlad made friends with some Leprechauns, so we're crashing one of their parties tonight."

" _Leprechauns_!"

"I would have thought you'd like them- they're all about mindless petty destruction and mischief," Ingrid stared him down; "Degenerate fairies seem right up your alley."

" _Vampires are not mischievous_ ," The Count exclaimed in offense, "We are beings of _pure evi_ l!"

"Which is why you haven’t gotten so much as a parking ticket all year?"

The Count snapped his mouth shut with a snarl, and turned to his son, "Vladimir! I can understand one's need for company, especially when surrounded by Breathers, but I urge you to avoid these  _leprechauns_. However their reputation leaves much to be desired and I warn you against making a bad impression of the Tuatha Dé Danann. They are a most troublesome court, and it would be ill-advised to insult them."

"I'll be on my best behaviour!"

"I would especially warn you against  _The Cluricawne of Monaghan_ ," The Count continued with a deep frown, "They are well known for wearing a long cone hat without a brim which makes for a very convincing weapon."

Ingrid let out a sharp laugh of disbelief, "You were attacked by a _Leprechaun wielding a hat_?"

"Don't you three have somewhere to be?" The Count snapped, using his hands to gesture the universal sign of 'shoo', "Go and celebrate your breather holiday and dalliance with dangerous creatures responsible for purging your kind from the island of  _Éire. Don't complain to me when they try to slay you like they did to your great-great-great grand uncle Abhartach!"_

"We're just going down to play arcade games," Vlad interjected glumly, "Maybe win Wolfie a new bear?

The Count crossed his arms with a clearly infuriated expression.

"Miss McCauley is going to be down there," Vlad tried hopefully as he rolled his eyes, "If we need anything we'll go and talk to her, okay?"

"...Miss McCauley?" The Count straightened, "Well, that's a different matter  _entirely_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Abhartach: An Irish Vampire. No really, he was a tyrant who had to be killed by what is essentially a wooden stake.  
> Tuatha Dé Danann: "a race inhabiting Ireland before the arrival of the Milesians (the ancestors of the modern Irish)."  
> Éire is the Irish name for the island of Ireland  
> The Cluricawne of Monaghan: Yep, they are a varient of Leprechaun known for using their hats as weapons!


	4. International Women's Day (Secular)

2. International Women's Day

"Vlad," Ingrid's eyes narrowed on her brother as soon as he strode into the dining room, "What exactly are you wearing?"

The vampire in question looked down at the purple ribbon pinned to his hoodie with a groan, "What, isn't it on straight?"

"Is this some new breather fashion you've been swept up into?" Ingrid dismissively snorted, and turned her attention back to the monstrosity that was called 'breakfast'. She poked it with her fork a few times, and paused to judge on whether its movements were signs of gravity, or life.

"No actually," Vlad took his seat and reached for his favourite box of cereal, "It's to commemorate International Women's Day today."

Ingrid's head snapped up.

"Did Dad decide to throw another temper tantrum over _Lucky Charms_ again?" Vlad asked noting the lack of cereal in the box, "Because I'm not eating sugar-free cereal, no matter how hard he tries."

"International Women's day?" Ingrid eyed him in suspicion, "What are you up to, little brother?"

Vlad met her eyes with a sigh, "Isn't it entirely possible that I'm not up to anything? I mean, after calling me _the worst vampire who has ever lived_ for the last 17 years of my life, you would have thought that the message would have sunk in that _I'm not interested in ulterior motives_."

"You're going to be the Grand High Vampire," Ingrid shot back, "You are definitely up to something; no vampire pretends to be interested in anything to do with vampiresses unless they're complaining about how pathetic and weak we are."

"Ingrid, you're my sister," Vlad paused, "I don't think anyone with you for a sister could think that."

Ingrid hesitated, seemingly stuck in interpreting the intent of the words.

"That was a complement." Vlad added helpfully, wrist deep in cereal packaging.

"Now you're definitely up to something," Ingrid snapped, "You have all the subtlety of a werewolf caught in a windstorm. I know bootlicking when I see it; why are you doing this and what do you want?"

Vlad stared back at her for a moment, and then dramatically rolled his eyes.

"Fine you caught me! I secretly have a diabolical scheme based around wearing a ribbon, Ingrid how do you manage to be so good at uncovering my schemes! Oh gosh darn it," Vlad threw the empty box of cereal to the table, “I would have gotton away with it too, if not for you meddling kids!”

"You're _actually_ serious?"

Vlad bobbled his head, "I'm going to be the Grand High Vampire and I'm going to rule over all of Vampiric kind; I can't exactly ignore half our population, can I?"

"You're actually _serious_."

"Yes," Vlad deflated, "Look, Ingrid I know I haven't exactly been the best brother, especially since I've never really stuck up for you against dad, and I always told myself it was because I didn't want to cause fights and arguments but that's not exactly the best excuse. Especially since Dad's A+ parenting leaves much to be desired, but I'm going to try harder. That's what everyone has been telling me, haven't they? That I need to be a better Grand High Vampire. I figure, since I've been saddled with all this Chosen One stuff, I may as well use it to do a bit of good."

"Are you apologising?" Ingrid’s expression was utterly confused. She frowned deeply, making Vlad wonder if she’d actually pinch herself.

"Vampires aren't suppose to apologise," Vlad grinned, "I'll make you a promise though; Vampires can do those, right?"

"They don't always honour them." Ingrid's words were uncharacteristically soft, and her eyes were guarded.

"I will," Vlad vowed, "That's why I'm wearing this ribbon today; it's a promise. I've grown up seeing the way that people treat you, and it's not fair to you at all."

"Haven't you heard Vlad, the world is _fundamentally unfair_."

"But I still have an opportunity, and a responsibility to try and even out the playing field a little; if you're willing to help me."

"You want my help?" Ingrid's tone was automatically suspicious again.

"If you're willing," Vlad paused, "Look, the whole idea of International Women's day is raising political, economic and social awareness of the struggles of women worldwide. Issues are brought out and examined, and changes are made- and I become Grand High Vampire in a few months. Before then, I have to make decisions on my council and revisit laws and figure out where I want my council to stand for. I thought today would be a good opportunity to revisit a lot of the old laws? I don't have Bertrand anymore to help me with this anymore; but I think you'd be brilliant with this sort of stuff. "

Ingrid froze, searching her brother's face with a dark expression, "We're starting with civil rights and then property ownership, clan titles, inheritance, arranged marriage, custody, council seats and positions of power laws first."

"Okay," Vlad smiled, but the idea of so much work dragged down the corners of his mouth, "What next?"

" _We dismantle systematic patriarchal vampirarchy_." Ingrid responded promptly.

Vlad's eyes narrowed in confusion, "I'm not even sure what that means.”

"Trust me little brother, by the end of the week you will." Ingrid's lips curled up into a sadistic grin, “Next we’re going to look into the medical side of things and you’re going to help us put together a decent therapy program, and then we’re going to look at foster programs for vampires without vampiric parents- orphans and half fangs, and then look into standardised schooling programs and employment laws, and if we have time- and if we don’t we’ll _MAKE_ time- we’re going to completely re-do the criminal law system and nullify any contract made without given consent of all parties involved.”

"Can we at least order _takeout_ before?" Vlad rubbed his temples with a sigh.

"Fine, but if you at any time call this sibling bonding, I'm out of there. We are not gossiping, or painting each other's toenails, understand?" Ingrid paused, "And I want a seat on the council for my efforts."

"Already done."

“And you are going to clear your weekend ever week for the foreseeable future until we completely renovate the _decaying corpse_ of vampiric law.”

“...Fine-“

“And finally, I want to be made an official Advisor.” Ingrid’s eyes bore into his head like a stake, just daring him to refuse her.

“Deal,” Vlad promised, with the tone of someone who had finally understood the perpetual feeling of being overwhelmed that came with his coveted title,  "Now, I was having trouble deciding between _Kyonshi Langsuir_ or _Vetala Soucriant_ for the position of Treasurer..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An attempt was made.


	5. Armistice Day (International)

1\. Armistice Day

“Vlad?” Miss McCauley smiled at the pale lithe boy who glanced into her office with a hesitant expression, “What can I do for you?”

The boy in question frowned and shifted his weight between his feet, with slumped shoulders that marked significant more stress and sadness than she usually saw on the boy’s shoulders. Though Mr Count was secretive, she had figured out long ago through observation that Vladimir was certainly destined for something great; an inherited title, aristocracy judging by his father’s constant grooming and use of outdated titles such as ‘heir’.  Although it was in her nature to worry about her students, it was also plain to see that Vladimir was also a completely modern and progressive young man, and when he eventually left to fulfil whatever destiny awaited, she had no doubt she’d find herself scouring newspapers in order to catch a glimpse of his brilliant ideas.

“I wanted to ask if Garside is going to be observing Armistice Day this year.”

Whatever she had been expecting, this was certainly not it. Her surprise must have shown on her face, for Vlad quickly continued on in explanation in alarm.

“I have a very good argument if you need to be convinced, and there are a _lot_ of people who support having two minutes of silence in commemoration of veterans, and people who have perished in the face of-“

“That’s quite alright,” The headmistress replied with a friendly smile, “I’ve received similar ideas from various other students and staff. I just wasn’t aware that you were interested in observing such events.”

 “Celebrating peace and celebrating ceasefire is important.  Reminding people why we celebrate peace and ceasefire is even more important.” Vlad shrugged non-committed, but it was clear in his eyes that he would fight for this, no matter what she said. The two conflicting messages made her pause and wonder when he became so good at throwing people off his motivations.

“Certainly,” The woman smiled, “May I ask what brought this on?”

Vlad hesitated, and shrugged again, “I just felt as if we should observe two minutes of silence in commemoration. It’s not like it’s going to have a _significant_ negative impact on our schooling, and history _is_ important-“

“You certainly don’t need to convince me,” Miss McCauley smiled back, “I think this is a very good idea. Did you have family in either of the world wars? I’m aware how important family is to your father.”

Vlad looked up with a snort, “Yeah; _on both sides_.”

“I see.”

“Transylvania became Romanian during world war 1,” Vlad shrugged, “Before Transylvania had been a province of Hungary. It made a few people angry, and you can probably see that my family seems to have very short tolerances of things that make them angry.”

“You are not your family.” She watched as her carefully chosen words made the boy cautiously relax, although he hid it well under his constant defensive walls.

“I know,” Vlad responded, although his tone made her question if he really did believe his own words, “But that’s not why I want to hold two minutes of silence. I’m not celebrating because of my family.”

Vlad looked around her office, stalling as he tried to find the words. Not for the first time, she wondered what exactly happened inside his mind to have created such a person as Vladimir Count.

 “I mean, celebrating as a time of respect for soldiers who died isn’t why I observe Armistice,” Vlad paused, “Not that fighting for your country isn’t admirable; but I guess I’ve always thought that remembering the people who were persecuted, remembering people who were trapped, remembering people who died to protect others is more important. People tend to overlook people as individuals in favour of groups.”

Vlad shrunk again, as if his impromptu speech had exceeded his assertiveness for the entirety of the conversation. It was a pity, that for all his brilliant ideas, he was still lacking confidence and assertiveness, even in the face of friendliness.

She frowned for a  second, watching the boy as a half-remembered lunchbreak involving a French Tutor surfaced in her mind-

“And remembering the people who were left behind afterwards.”

Vlad looked up guiltily, and looked away quickly. The reaction was odd, but she carefully sat down in her chair and motioned for Vlad to take a seat. She waited until he had settled in the chair, and looked less terrified about his position until she considered speaking again. He looked like a half-wild animal, glancing around as if trapped, with a forlorn expression of guilt and sadness in his eyes.

“You observed Armistice with Mr Du Fortunesa I believe?”

“Every year,” Vlad finally confessed with a miserable expression, “Every year since we met.”

“And now he’s no longer here, you’re worried that you won’t be able to observe it? Surely your father-” Vlad’s expression had her backpedalling furiously, “It’s a shame that Bertrand had to leave so suddenly; have you heard word of him lately?”

“He’s _gone_ ,” Vlad slumped in his chair, and crossed his arms with an unreadable expression. It took a few seconds to understand the full implications of his words, but as soon as it sunk in, a daunting realisation of his misery hit her.

“My condolences,” She responded, “Can I ask what happened?”

“Bertrand,” Vlad paused, and looked utterly pained as he ground out each word, “He had a military _childhood_ , _I suppose_. He died in the line of duty.”

A silence filled the tiny office, causing Vlad to fidget as if the air burned his skin. Morosely he froze, and picked at the threads coming loose from the chair, with a glum expression.

“Even worse; It was my fault,” Vlad slumped.

“He mentioned that he had family who fought in both world wars,” Miss McCauley eventually responded after the initial shock of Vlad’s announcement, “He said his father Bertrand Jnr, fought as part of the French resistance during World War 2, and he said that during WW1, his grandfather Bertrand Snr served in WW1. He told the class about 18 generations of Bertrands who had fought in conflicts and wars and rebellions and revolutions in the name of finding a great future. His Father and grandfather surely installed a great sense of pride and courage in him; they must have been wonderful people.”

Vlad stared at her for a second and let out a short laugh, “Oh, _they were_.”

“Vlad; I hardly think Bertrand would want you to feel guilty over his passing,” She softly responded, “From his stories, he seems adamant that over 400 years of his namesake have been dedicated to protecting and achieving a unified future; Bertrand was a remarkable person, and there is no doubt that he was honourable and compassionate and deeply wished to protect those he cared about. _His death is not your fault_.”

Vlad glanced down at the ground, making no indication that he had heard her words.

“Garside would be glad to join you for the two minutes silence.”

Vlad looked up and gave a tentative smile.

“Armistice Day is for remembering all fallen comrades- not just ones who fell in the two world wars,” Miss McCauley reminded with a smile, “And Vlad? I don’t think Bertrand was persecuted, or couldn’t escape; I think Bertrand had a choice and he _chose_ to safeguard the people he cared about.”

“I hope he did,” Vlad responded offering a tentative smile at her, which didn’t quite reach his eyes, “Thank you Miss McCauley.”

“No problem Vlad; I think Bertrand would be _incredibly_ proud of you,” She smiled as he rose awkwardly, “And Vlad?”

The boy turned hesitantly, looking worried as if she was suddenly going to take away her words and blame him for whatever perceived ill he had committed. The expression cemented her decision to speak her final words.

“My door is _always_ open if you need to talk.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to add on a sombre note. Because Vlad continues on traditions, long after those who imparted them are gone.

**Author's Note:**

> Read and Comment folks! *And correct me if anything is horribly wrong


End file.
